


there's a rainbow outside (come look, come look)

by fanficloverme96



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, harry doesn't want to leave louis, this has a happy ending i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-03 21:22:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanficloverme96/pseuds/fanficloverme96
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“he still loves you, harry. i don’t think he’ll ever stop loving you. he’ll bring you back a burning star if you ask him to. "</p><p>(harry waits. louis sleeps. harry waits. louis sleeps. it's been like that for a few weeks now.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There are references to the movie Frozen in terms of lines. You'll find it :)

the beep of the machine is the most deafening sound in the quiet room.

“harry- how long have you been-“

“since this morning.”

“honey, it’s 10 o’clock at night. visitors’ hours are long over-“

“i’m staying.”

“harry…”

“ _please.”_

his mom doesn’t bother asking about his presence anymore, after that. he’s always there. no one expects to find him anywhere else. not that he plans to be anywhere else – the clean, white room might as well be his new home. it has been like that for two weeks now,

no one asks him about it.

* * *

 

*

_“wake up, harry”_

_“it’s 6 a.m, you arse. you go back to sleep.”_

_“the sky’s awake, so i’m awake.”_

_“go back to sleep, louis. m’tired.”_

_“…”_

_“hazza?”_

_“mm?”_

_“i’m hungry.”_

_“of course you are.”_

* * *

*

“harry, mate, the management’s been asking about you.”

“it’s been a month since…well…since any of us did anything.”

harry remains silent, playing the material of the white sheet. he pulls too hard and the blanket moves. he hurries to put it back in place, though he doesn’t know why he bothers to. the person using it wouldn’t mind. harry would know if the person minds.

zayn places his hand on harry’s shoulder. his grip is firm and strong and unrelenting, as if he’s trying to keep harry together as if harry’s made of glass and one wrong move might result him breaking into tiny, tiny pieces-

“m’fine,” harry mumbles, “tell ‘em i’m fine.”

“they won’t believe that, harry,” says liam, his tone morose, “even we don’t believe that.”

“harry, why don’t you stay with one of us for the time being?” niall offers, trying to make his voice sound comforting but it ends up sounding strained, as strained as the look in his eyes, “it’s not healthy-,”

“m’fine, guys, really,” harry insists, “being here, I’ll be fine. being away…i’ll feel worse.”

his sentence doesn’t make much sense but his friends give up on trying to comprehend it. harry’s been saying it over and over again like a record on repeat for the past month. it hurts hearing him say it. but harry’s like a tape recorder with no stop button. he’ll say the same thing, over and over and over.

sometimes, his friends wonder who’s the real broken one here; the boy lying asleep on the bed, or the boy sitting awake by his side.

* * *

 

*

_“harry, harry, harry, hazza.”_

_“yes?”_

_“you prat, you’re not answering me on purpose.”_

_“i answered you now, didn’t i?”_

_“you’re an idiot, you know that, harold?”_

_“whatever you say, lewis, whatever you say.”_

* * *

*

harry feels as if he’s floating in air.

he’s dreaming, or maybe he isn’t. most of the time, harry doesn’t care either way.

the hand in his grip is unresponsive, as usual. harry ducks his head and his grip on the boy’s hand on the bed tightens. the boy looks at peace, like he’s only asleep and any moment now, harry could expect him to wake up and yawn and ask for breakfast like he usually does.

“lou,” he whispers, “it’s beautiful outside, y’know. it rained pretty heavily this morning but look- look, there’s a- lou, there’s a rainbow outside. it’s beautiful outside, lou. come look.”

the boy’s eyes remain close. he looks as he never heard harry in the first place. harry knows he’s listening. lou is always listening to what he has to say. that’s what he’s always been doing. he listens, he smiles, he listens some more and he loves harry more each day.

now he sleeps. he sleeps when harry’s asleep, he sleeps when harry’s awake.

“louis,” he mutters quietly, “you’re missing out, lou. it’s beautiful outside. look, lou.”

louis never looks outside. he sleeps. he sleeps. he sleeps.

* * *

 

*

_“let’s build a snowman.”_

_harry stares at louis from the brim of his teacup._

_“huh?”_

_“snowman. let’s build one. it’s winter, harry. there’s snow. let’s build a man of out snow,” louis prattles on, stabbing his pancake with his fork out of emphasis._

_“it’s cold outside. can’t we just stay inside?” harry protests. it’s barely nine in the morning and they have a  photoshoot in three hours. harry wants to sleep. louis, apparently, doesn’t._

_“harry,” louis says his name seriously, “it’s beautiful outside. look, harry, look.”_

_“i don’t want to look. i want to sleep.”_

_“you can sleep later.”_

_“i want to sleep, lou. m’tired.”_

_“you’re missing out on the beauty of winter, hazza. you may be tired but i’m disappointed. the disappointment is crushing me, harry. i can’t breathe-“_

_harry ends up building five snowmen and falls asleep halfway during the photoshoot. he blames louis, louis merely smiles._

* * *

*

“harry, honey.”

“hey, mum.”

“you’re writing something. what is it?”

“a song.” more scribbling. “for the new album. and for louis. mostly, for louis.”

his mom pulls a chair and sits beside harry. she tries to school her expression into a calm one but you don’t even have to look to see the tremor behind his mom’s eyes. she tries, anyway, like the way she’s been trying for the past six weeks.

“may i see?” his mom asks.

harry hesitates. “it isn’t any good, yet. can’t make it rhyme right.”

his mom smiles. “a good song doesn’t even have to rhyme all the time. it has to come from the heart.”

harry shakes his head. “louis likes rhymes. he likes poems, and most poems rhyme so-,” he shakes his head again, “help me think of something.”

“sure, sweetie. what do you want to know?”

harry bites the end of pencil – that’s louis’ habit, whenever he’s in deep thought and how harry comes to develop it as well is as heartbreaking as watching louis doing it when he’s awake – and hands her the paper. “blue. what good word rhymes with blue?”

anne scans the lyrics – snatches of them don’t even make sense but she could tell harry’s been putting a lot of thought into them – and purses her lips. “um…you? clue? glue?”

and harry smiles then, his face lighting up like the way it usually does when he thinks of a great idea or when gemma brings back presents from her trip overseas. “i got it.”

“harry?”

“lou,” harry says at last, “lou rhymes with blue.” harry beams at his mom. “thanks, mum.”

anne forces out a smile but it feels as fake as plastic. “of course, honey.”

* * *

 

*

_louis smells like ink and paper and vanilla extract._

_“pray tell me, why are you sniffing me, hazza?” louis laughs as he trails his finger up harry’s spine . they are in bed together that night, with harry’s head pressing against louis’ bare chest. louis’s skin feels warm to the touch and yet he shivers when louis touches him. and harry thinks that’s odd and yet so very louis that he doesn’t mind._

_“you smell nice. but you also smell like ink,” harry answers._

_“i’ve been writing.”_

_“writing?”_

_“a song. for the new album.”_

_harry turns his head to look at louis’ face. “what’s it about?”_

_louis grins. “it’s a secret, harry.”_

_harry pouts. “i hate secrets.”_

_“it’s a good secret.”_

_“tell me, louis.”_

_“no.”_

_“louis.”_

_“harry.”_

_louis doesn’t tell him, but he whispers something into harry’s ear later at night when harry’s half asleep._

_“it rhymes with harry.”_

* * *

*

eleanor visits on the seventh week.

“hey,” she says, standing awkwardly at the doorway. there’s a bouquet of tulips in her hands. louis hates tulips. harry smiles wryly at that.

“hey yourself.” harry sits at the sofa, staring at the tv in the room. the news achor is talking about some typhoon but harry’s barely paying attention.

“where…should i put this?” eleanor asks, referring to the bouquet in her hands. harry gets up and offers to take it from her. eleanor gives it to him without a word. “i’ll look for a vase. you can- um, you can sit there if you want while you wait.”

she nods. but when harry comes back into the room five minutes later, carrying a small blue vase with the tulips in it, he finds her still standing, looking at louis with a carefully schooled expression. her hands remain firmly by her side. she’s biting her lips and shakes her head, as if disagreeing with whoever she’s arguing with.

“el-,” harry begins, hoping for a small talk to ease the tension but she cuts him off.

“he loves you, y’know.”

whatever small talk harry has in mind, it’s all gone now. “what?” he says instead, sounding dumb even to him.

“he loves you more than anything,” eleanor repeats, “i know that. i know that all too well. i also know whatever … thing that’s going on between louis and me… it’s not real. even if I wanted it to be.” her eyes are shining when she turns to look at harry. “i hated you for it. you easily have what i want without even trying and i- i get so _frustrated_ and i-,” she takes a breath, “anyway, all that doesn’t matter now.”

“eleanor…”

“he broke up with me a month ago. several days before the accident.”

harry’s eyes are wide. he doesn’t know that. eleanor smiles a self-deprecating smile as she looks at harry. “he said…well, he was kind about it. he’s always kind. he said he’s sorry but he can’t do it anymore. he said he can’t pretend having feelings for someone he loves no more than a friend,” she laughs without any real humor, “he didn’t even blame me or even the management. he blames himself for being such a coward. he blames himself for being…being angry at you.”

harry suddenly feels cold. he hates remembering it. but eleanor’s words brought back the memories of the heated argument louis and himself had some time ago. harry had walked away fuming and louis practically slammed the door behind him. it hurt then. it hurts now.

“he still loves you, harry. i don’t think he’ll ever stop loving you. he’ll bring you back a burning star if you ask him to. he’ll do anything to make you happy, to a point he doesn’t even care about his own happiness,” eleanor sighs, “he’s angry at himself because he thinks he’s being selfish. what happened between you and that nick guy-,”

“i don’t _love_ nick-,” harry says fiercely, “i love _louis_ , el-,”

eleanor nods. “i know. i know.”

there is silence.

“i should go,” says eleanor a moment later, “i have something to do so-“ she offers harry a hug which he accepts, surprising himself. the hug is brief and awkward but eleanor grips him tight and her touch is warm and assuring. harry appreciates it.

“hey, eleanor?” he calls out. eleanor pauses the doorway and turns to harry.

“yes?”

“did you love him? even if the relationship itself is…” he trails off.

 _fake_. the word hangs in the air and harry is positive that eleanor knows it.

she smiles, slow and sad but it’s the most genuine smile he has seen from her in a long time. “i still do, harry. i still do.”

* * *

 

*

_“-stay awake, louis!”_

_louis’s bleeding. there’s blood everywhere. harry can’t think straight._

_“mmm…can’t. i feel cold. can’t feel a thing. let me sleep, harry.”_

_“no no no no! stay awake,dammit! don’t you dare-,”_

_“m’tired, harry. let me sleep…”_

_“louis, please, i’m begging you- i…i’m sorry, i’m sorry for everything i said, louis please--!”_

_“harry…? can’t see you… are you still there?”_

_“i’m here, i’m here, louis, always-,”_

_“hmm…i’m glad. be there when i wake up, alright?”_

_“WHERE’S THE GODDAMN PARAMEDICS? WHY AREN’T THEY HERE YET?”_

_“louis, please, please, stay awake-“_

_“good night…harry.”_

_“lou-,”_

_louis doesn’t hear anything anymore after that. harry doesn’t feel anything anymore. the pain sucks everything out of him._

* * *

*

harry blinks back tears.

“lou,” he whispers in the stillness of the room. the silence is stifling. it’s suffocating him.

“lou, it’s beautiful outside. come look, lou. wake up. wake up and look at the rainbow. it’s gone now but if you concentrate hard enough, you might just be able to see it again. lou-,”

louis remains asleep.

harry doesn’t want to see the rainbow anymore.

* * *

 

*

_“what do you want most in the world, harry?”_

_“you.”_

_“you prat, you already have me,”_

_harry grins. louis loves that grin. harry’s grin is the best kind there is._

_“then, i want a baby.”_

_silence._

_“a baby?”_

_“a baby. i want a baby with you.”_

_louis can’t give him a baby, in the end (but he’s trying) but he does give harry a puppy the next day. harry ends up naming it ‘baby’. “our baby,” he coos, snuggling the puppy in his arms. the puppy yips happily._

_he sounds like an idiot. but louis loves him anyway._

* * *

_*_

“harry.”

“go away.”

“i’m serious, mate. wake up.”

“niall, go away.”

“harry, _look_.”

harry’s head snaps up. he looks at the hand he’s been holding. his eyes widen.

the fingers, normally slack and unresponsive, is gripping his hand.

louis, he’s-

“he’s waking up, harry,” zayn says, his voice all choked up, “he’s waking up.”

harry holds his breath, tears already bluring his view. “louis?” he calls out hesitantly. “louis… are you-,”

the fingers grip his hand tighter now.

outside, the rainbow appears  once more.

 


	2. i see the rainbow (it's beautiful)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> louis wakes up.
> 
> he remembers why he fell asleep in the first place.

“lou.”

“hm?”

“you’re awake?”

“yes.”

“i’m glad.”

“hm.”

* * *

 

*

_“have you seen the news today? somethin’ about you, haz.”_

_“really?” harry takes a sip of his drink, eyes glued to the table. he doesn’t look at louis._

_louis’ gaze doesn’t leave harry._

_“somethin’ about you and…nick.”_

_the silence of the room is tense and suffocating. harry doesn’t answer but he lifts his gaze to meet louis’. his lips are pulled into a thin line._

_the seconds tick by._

_“lou,” is all he says._

* * *

 

_*_

liam and zayn and a half-asleep niall visits every morning for the first two weeks. the boys use every single free moment they can have before work starts to watch over louis.

louis appreciates it but at the same time, he gets a little uncomfortable with all the attention.

“i’m fine, guys,” he insists for the umpteenth time. harry hovers by his bedside, his eyes still filled with worry as if louis is going to fall back into an eternal sleep if he isn’t careful. his actions transient between hovering and worrying and fussing and the process repeats.

“sorry if we’re bothering you, mate,” says liam, always the first one to apologize, “it’s just…you gave us quite a scare.”

“i can tell,” louis’ tone is snide, but he is smiling.

niall, who has never been a morning person, worry or not, rubs his eyes and leans tiredly against the wall. “how,,,” he yawns, “…are you feelin’?”

“more energized than you, that’s for sure.”

zayn forces a laugh and liam half-smiles, but harry remains unsmiling, his brows furrowing as he bites his lips. he’s worrying excessively and he knows this, but he cannot do anything _but_ worry. eight weeks worth of worrying has been ingrained so deep within him it’s now his habit. he can’t stop even if he wants to.

“go have breakfast or something, the three of you. no-,” louis glances at harry, “the four of you ought to have breakfast.”

“i already-,” harry begins but louis holds a finger up to his lips. “liar. you didn’t have a single bite. now go.”

harry hesitates and zayn touches his shoulder. “louis’ right, harry.” “always am,” louis pipes in. “we should get something to eat,” zayn continues.

harry looks at louis for confirmation and louis nods. harry sighs. there’s no helping it, then.

“okay,” he says.

“okay,” louis replies.

* * *

 

*

_“it’s a misunderstanding.”_

_“misunderstanding,” louis repeats, almost spitting the word, “misunderstanding what? what am I missing, harry?”_

_harry stares at louis. louis stares back. none of them move. there is a newspaper spread on the table in front of louis. the picture takes up almost the whole of the front cover. bold words scream out the headlines._

**_harry’s gay rumors not rumors after all??_ **

_the picture is of harry and nick._

_they are kissing._

* * *

 

_*_

eleanor does not visit, but her endless calls make up for it. the girl has been taking her recent break-up with louis surprisingly well and with much grace that harry respects her for it. the first time she called, louis had been hesitant to pick it up.

now, her calls seem like a thing to be expected.

“yes, el. i took my meds. went for therapy. yes, yes,” says louis later that afternoon. harry sits on the sofa, trying to pay attention to the news on the tv rather than the conversation.

he fails, of course.

“yeah…” harry sees louis hesitating. “um..i love you, too, eleanor. take care.” louis turns to harry.    

harry looks back.

he waits.

“judging from your expression, hazza, i’m guessing you know,” is all he says.

harry simply nods.

“and what do you think of it?”

“what do I think of what?”

“of me and eleanor…breaking up.”

“i don’t know.”

“huh,” louis raises an eyebrow, “figured you might be happy, though. all this while, i thought you weren’t a fan of her.”

harry stuffs his hands into his pockets. “i didn’t _hate_ her. but i suppose you’re right,” he concedes.

louis smiles weakly, “always am.”

there is a drawn pause.

“she loves you, y’know,” harry whispers, “i can’t deny that much.”

louis’ shoulders sag. his expression is carefully kept neutral but there is underlying sadness in his eyes. he smiles again, this time, regret tinging it.

“i know.”

* * *

 

*

_harry’s silence may as well be the worst thing louis ever experience. the said boy keeps on looking at him, his gaze never breaking. it’s almost defiant._

_“while i admire your attempt of coming out, proud even,” louis tries to keep his voice even, but not quiet able to, “but this way? you…” he pauses, “…you know the management’s probably trying to cover this up.” he hates it. he hates himself for not being able to say what he really wants to say._

_louis doesn’t care about the management._

_louis cares about harry._

_the silence that follows is suffocating._

_“why didn’t…” harry begins slowly, “…you ask the question you really wanted to ask?”_

* * *

 

_*_

“louis.”

“yes?”

visitors’ hours are now over. harry stands by the doorway.

“do you…” harry shakes his head, “can i stay?”

louis’ lips quirks upwards, his expression fond. he pats the space beside him.

“yes.”

* * *

 

*

_“why him?”_

_why not me?_

_why, harry?_

_why?_

_it takes a whole minute for harry to answer. that one single minute feels like hours._

_“you said…we needed to see other people, to figure things out. so…i did.”_

_something inside louis breaks._

* * *

 

_*_

harry is humming.

the two of them are cramped together on top of louis’ small hospital bed, with harry’s arms wrapped securely around louis’ shoulders. His grip is warm to the touch and it feels nice. it feels safe.

louis rests his head against harry’s, breathing in that familiar smell he grows to miss. harry…he always smells like a combination of things that are sweet; vanilla, chocolate, baby shampoo, lavender. sometimes, ink, when harry’s up writing a new song.

“what’s that you’re humming?” louis asks softly.

“a new song i wrote,” harry answers, “back when…back when you were still sleeping.”

“oh.”

he feels something pressing against his hair.

“do you want to hear it?” harry asks.

louis takes in a breath, before letting it out slowly. he enjoys moments like this. where it’s quiet and peaceful and it’s just harry and him. he enjoys it. he appreciates it.

“yes,” he whispers.

* * *

 

*

_louis can’t remember the rest of the conversation._

_all he remembers are the sounds of things breaking, like glass. he remembers himself, screaming at harry. he briefly recalls harry screaming back._

_“i’m just doing what you told me to!” harry shouts, his voice gone hoarse._

_“but of all the goddamn people, why him?” louis shouts back,_

_louis doesn’t expect another silence following that question. harry stands in front of him, breathing hard. he breaks his gaze from louis and looks down at the floor. his hands are clenched into fist._

_“…harry?”_

_“because,” harry whispers, “because…nick was there when you weren’t.”_

_louis, he-_

_he feels as if someone just punched him in the stomach, he staggers, as if being hit by a physical blow. he braces himself against the table, looking at harry with wide eyes._

_harry, apparently, isn’t done._

_“i wanted it to be you, though,” he continues, “i wanted it so badly to be you. but then you started saying all these things about the management, and- and how people would talk and we began fighting…” he sucks in a breath, louis lets go of his, “ and then you said we should see other people and i-,”_

_he suddenly looks back at louis with so much ferocity that louis doesn’t remember the retort he has at the back of his mind._

_“i didn’t want to leave, lou. i wanted to stay. but you didn’t-,” harry chokes, “you didn’t say anything. so…i…gave up.”_

_louis runs._

_he never once turns back._

* * *

 

_*_

“i like that line,” louis murmurs, half-asleep.

he hears harry chuckle softly in his ear. “which line?”

 _“The script was written and I could not change a thing…”_ louis sings, a little out of tune because he hasn’t get used to the melody yet, _“I want to rip it all to shreds and start again…”_

harry hums the lines again, and louis smiles as his eyes droop.

“yeah…it’s nice to start all over again,” he mumbles a little incoherently.

harry agrees.

* * *

 

*

_there is pain._

_that’s all louis can register._

_he doesn’t remember the rest. he dimly recalls the sound of a loud screech and the painful blow at his side before he collapses to the ground headfirst._

_the rest is blur._

_“-lou-,”_

_hm?_

_“-louis-!”_

_he hears his name._

_“stay awake, dammit! louis!”_

_he knows that voice._

_he tries to speak, but he hurts. he couldn’t move. he can’t think straight. he just wants to sleep. let him sleep, let him sleep. let him dream nice dreams._

_“louis, please, i’m begging you- i…i’m sorry, i’m sorry for everything i said, louis please--!”_

_harry’s screaming. louis opens his eyes and though his vision is dim and fading, he sees that harry’s face is streaked with tears._

_don’t cry, he wants to say._

_but he’s so tired._

_“good night…harry,” he says instead. he can barely hear his own voice._

_he sleeps. harry’s voice fades away into nothing._

* * *

 

_*_

“louis?”

“hm?”

“you’re gonna sleep?”

“hm...yeah.”

“…”

“…”

“louis?”

“…mmm?”

“you’ll…wake up tomorrow, right?”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“louis?”

“yes, harry. i will, don’t worry.”

“…”

“…”

“lou?”

“hazza, please, i will-,”

“i love you. you know that, right?”

“…”

“…”

“yes, harry. i love you, too. you’ll always remember that, right?”

“i will, always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Per requested,
> 
> here's the continuation. Please take note this is the only continuation I'll do on this piece which I originally intended as a one-shot. So what happens next is entirely up to you guys. :)
> 
> @soverylouvely on Twitter.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts would be very lovely :)
> 
> @soverylouvely (previously MeliaJeager) on twitter.


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